


No One Else Plays Chess

by AngeNoir



Series: Filled One-Shot Prompts [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hurts to say goodbye. It hurts even more to say sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Else Plays Chess

**Author's Note:**

> Fills of a prompt given to me on tumblr. Prompts are at the end of each story so as not to give away the whole plot. An abbreviated/teaser plot is what is found in the summary.

Charles opened his eyes. He could tell, normally, when people were in his room. It wasn’t that hard, with telepathy, after all, though he’d trained himself at an early age to block out most of the background chatter. His senses weren’t telling him someone was in the room at the moment…

But he could still feel eyes on him.

The room was dark, of course, but he could make out the line of a lean, lanky shadow along the balcony window.

“Are you going to come in, Erik?”

The shadow shifted uncertainly, then Charles watched the balcony door slide open and the shadow move inside.

“Will you turn on the light?”

Charles could almost hear a snort. He let out a soft sigh, leaned his head back against his pillows and stared at the moonlight on the roof. “I didn’t think so.”

There was a long moment, minutes when Charles wondered whether the pain medication was making him hallucinate - but no, the balcony doors were open, after all, and they’d been closed when he’d gone to sleep.

When Charles was on the edge of drifting back off again, he heard as a whisper, “It wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

Charles blinked to keep himself awake. “How was it supposed to end, Erik?”

A soft sigh, and then the shadow moved to the armchair. “We were supposed to be on the same side, Charles. What is here for you? For us?”

“Nothing,” Charles breathed, closing his eyes, and he couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. “Nothing at all.”

Another long, long silence, and then long slender fingers curled around his. “I miss you, Charles. No one else plays chess.”

Charles chuckled, instinctively trying to curl around and not being able to. “And I miss you,” he responded, tightening his fingers around Erik’s.

Another, long, silence, and then Charles’ hand was lifted, pressed against eyes that leaked tears. “I am sorry, my friend.”

“As am I,” Charles whispered, curling fingers to trace over the ridge of the brow, cheekbones, the bridge of a nose.

Charles’ hand was placed against the bed, and salty lips pressed against his.

“Goodbye.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Erik/Charles; Erik apologizing, maybe?
> 
> (not sure I wrote what the anon was expecting o.o;; )


End file.
